


The Rising Sun Never Felt So Sweet.

by CreamcheeseBagel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Dhampir, Drarry, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smart Ron Weasley, Top Harry Potter, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Werewolves, dhampir draco, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamcheeseBagel/pseuds/CreamcheeseBagel
Summary: Death’s doors have been blown wide open. The streets of London will never be the same again.The Vampires are converging, amassing blood banks of those who won’t be missed. Stealing through the night on all fours, hunting and feasting.London is a dark and cold place at night, the perfect hunting ground for the soulless; and all Auror Potter had wanted was a damn good portion of chips.And now his neck is well and truly on the line.





	1. Chapter 1

_‘_ _A vampire must gain consent before blood-letting begins. Failure to do so is considered assault of the highest degree. Of which, amongst modern society, is punishable by death. Such as a human would die, a stake to the heart is most effective.’_

_Pg. 3_

Harry dropped the tome with a resounding thud, frowning at the title-less cracked leather cover. Sebastian raised his head from his arms and sniffed at the book before him, he sneered and slouched backwards into his chair.

‘ _That_ stinks,’ Sebastian huffed, turning his nose away. ‘You can practically smell the decay’, he continued as he pulled a tissue from his pocket and made an elaborate show of wiping his nose.  
Harry shrugged, the only smell to have met him from the pages had been musty tobacco. He wiped his hands on his robes and sat before the librarian, pulling the book closer to himself.

‘There’s more books in storage, round the back,’ Sebastian stated, leaning on his elbows with a blank expression. ‘Only your squad and Miss Granger are allowed in there. Whilst I’m away I’ll trust you to put the books back in their place, and to spray if you’re going to unearth anymore of _those_ ’.

Ron appeared beside the table before Harry could open his mouth, his Auror robes swishing lightly. ‘Scouts honour mate,’ he beamed taking an empty seat. Sebastian raised his head and inhaled deeply, his pupils widening. He smiled coyly at the new addition to the secluded table.

‘You smell divine. Is that a hint of lavender? Oh, if I had a tail it would be wagging right about now’.

‘Put it away, Seb,’ Ron snorted, the tips of his ears glowing. ‘I stink of whatever Hermione’s brewing you this time-and weren’t you meant to meet her by now anyway?’

‘Ah, fashionably late again. It’s a good thing I’m her favourite librarian then, isn’t it?’ Sebastian winked at Harry, before throwing one last scowl at the leather book and rising to his feet. He stood at a daunting six foot four, long limbed with shoulder length brunette hair. Sebastian raised a hand to his throat, massaging the right side, engulfing it in his palm before meandering off through the maze of towering bookcases.

‘So, Harry, mate, what’s with the new vampire obsession?’ Ron asked, already doodling on a roll of parchment. ‘You know it’s not our division’.

Harry nodded. ‘I’m pretty sure I saw a Vampire the other night, right by my local chippie’. The words rolled off his tongue almost nonchantly; at twenty five, with seven years of being an Auror under his belt, not a lot could faze Harry nor Ron.

‘But you haven’t reported your suspicions?’

‘Wanna check it out first,’ Harry shrugged, dipping a second quill into the inkwell, ‘don’t want to create any necessary work if I can help it. Just got this year and then I’m out. Spotted it whilst I was getting my chips, well I think I saw a Vampire-’.

‘Yeah, yeah, you said that,’ Ron hummed scribbling a pair of wings over Harry’s doodle. ‘You never get it easy, and if it’s a vampire- well that might mean a blood bank. But if it actually turns out it _is_ a blood bank operation- well that’s pretty much a murder orgy down the road. If you need a hand, Seb would gladly help.’

Harry shook his head with a small smile. ‘Nah, his wife would honestly kill me. And then I’d probably still get in trouble for not Obliviating her all those years ago.’

‘Never met a Muggle quite like Beth, takes it all in her stride. They’re all sworn to secrecy with the Muggle police though, ain’t they? So as long as it’s hush hush, it’s not so strict now. Even heard somewhere in Bristol one was actually living with a Vampire! World’s gone mad’.

‘So, are you going to help me stake this place out?’ Harry asked striking out his attempt at a bat.

‘We just have a quick look okay? No running in and doing something stupid, yeah?’

Harry quirked a brow.

‘Mate I mean it. If shit looks bad, we get the team together. We were lucky to save Seb that time, and we’re not adopting a vampire’.

Harry grinned back at Ron, the smile growing as his friend’s dubious expression softened. Three years ago the pair had stormed a young Werewolf den, scattering victims and converters alike. Ron had found Sebastian half dead, crouched over an unconscious Muggle woman, the right side of his body pumping blood onto the cavern floor with sickening slaps. Sebastian had saved a number of Muggles that day, his wife included, at the expense of his humanity. Every Christmas since he’d joke that he was the most interesting Squib to walks the halls of the Ministry, and even in his darkest hours he remained proud of his decisions.

‘I promise I won’t adopt any vampires, Ron. Honestly, I just want to make sure it’s all legit’.

‘If it turns out to be a family of albinos, I will be so annoyed, Harry. We live in Britain, it’s never sunny!’

Harry scribbled a skateboard under Ron’s orc and stood up, cracking his neck. ‘Meet me at the chippie on Friday night, yeah?’

‘Oh fantastic! An orgy of vampires next door to our local chippie. This is crazy’.

 

 

* * *

  

_‘Do not underestimate the Dhampir. A half-blooded creature afflicted with tainted blood, but not fully cursed. An unwanted sibling, they are often attacked and killed for their bitter blood. A treat for the undead palette.’_

_Pg. 240_

 

‘Fisherman’s Friend don’t betray me now!’ Ron sighed, smacking the upside down ketchup bottle harder. ‘Come on, ketchup!’ he grunted and the red sauce exploded over the chips, drenching the plate. ‘Well this is going to be a shit night’.

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly and shoved his plate of chips towards Ron, his stomach a secret bundle of nerves. He’d dealt with plenty of Werewolves, ghouls and even the odd Hag but a Vampire was something else. Off the scale horror. Tiny mouth overfilled with pointed teeth and beady black eyes. He shuddered at the thought.

‘You alright mate?’ Ron asked around a mouthful of ketchup free chips, ‘you look nervous, tell me where you saw the first one?’

‘Okay, well,’ Harry rubbed his sweaty palms together and took a deep breath. ‘Honestly, I think they terrify me’. Ron nodded. ‘So I was having a portion of chips outside the other night, a quick bite before I went home. And well I suddenly felt really cold, like just really creeped out’. A chip fell into Ron’s lap. ‘So I turned round and down the road someone was staring at me, through me. They kept staring and I couldn’t really see them, but I knew they were, and when I started to panic I’m sure they cocked their head towards me…’

Ron gulped slowly and pushed the plate away. ‘Think I would have shat myself right there. You sure these weren’t some drunks? This place always smells better when you’re drunk and hungry’

‘Ron, you can’t agree to tag along and then not believe me when we get here?’

‘Hey,’ Ron replied placating, raising his hands, ‘if I didn’t come along, you would have just strolled up to the place and if it’s true, got yourself eaten! But a bad feeling doesn’t equal a vampire’.

‘He was outside the boarded up house at the end of the street, Ron. Lurking. It was more than a bad feeling.’

‘Not saying you’re wrong, but this place sells kebabs so drunks flock here at all hours. Come on, we need a better starting point than a bad feeling-‘

‘Since when have you been so, I don’t know, rational?’

‘’Mione is a good influence. Anyway, fine it’s what, eight now. We’ll stake the place out for a few hours, and if we see any albinos we’ll get closer’.

Harry strummed his fingers against the sticky table top and the Muffliato charm bled away. The two Aurors, dressed in reinforced Muggle clothing, stood up. The cashier popped his head over the counter.

‘Have a good night boss!’ the man smiled, his eyes crinkling under the yellow din of fluorescent lights. Ron rescued the chip from his lap and left quickly. Harry nodded to the man. ‘Mind them drunks, boss. They’re squatting in that ‘ouse’.

‘What?’ Harry whirled round, his stomach jumping through a hoop.

‘Lively drunks up there, always making noise,’ the man continued, ‘scaring away a lot of the regulars. Police won’t touch the place though.’

‘Thanks, I’ll keep an eye out. Have a good night,’ Harry replied robotically, waving a goodbye as he stepped from the warmth of the chip shop and into the crisp night air.  
Harry pulled the collar of his coat closer around himself, he could feel the reinforced collar of his Auror robes beneath his jumper, yet the chill in his bones remained.

‘He confirmed it,’ Harry announced in a hissed whisper, his hand fisted in his pocket around his wand.

‘Trust you to notice a vampire. An hour tops. Okay. We sniff about outside and leave once we’ve got our bearings, Harry’.

Harry nodded obediently, falling into step with his best friend. It was moments like these that really brought the man to the surface, and Ron had grown into a fine, more open-minded individual. The perfect example of a well-rounded Auror, with enough edge to get the job done.  
The pair walked in a tense silence down the street, and away from the glow of the Fisherman’s Friend. It wasn’t a particularly wealthy street, corner shops populating more buildings than houses. Infact most of the houses were run-down shells with over-grown gardens, boarded up windows and piss stained walls.  
Ron took Harry’s wrist and the pair became invisible under a shimmer of sudden warmth. They crossed the empty street and into the dark, hunching under a dead streetlamp on the corner facing the derelict house Harry had singled out. But nothing stirred. They remained standing to attention for twenty minutes before Ron stepped backwards with his wand drawn.

‘Do you feel that, Harry?’ he hissed, his image rippling beneath the cloaking charm. ‘Something bad is coming’.

A shudder worked its way up Harry’s spine and he turned slowly to face the chipped brickwork of the derelict house, its windows boarded meticulously like bandages hiding empty eyes. Through the gloom of the night a figure stumbled towards the building, limping frantically. Ron’s hand clamped around Harry’s bicep and his hot breath against his ear brought him back to reality.

‘Now I know what you meant by a bad feeling. This feels _evil_ ’.

Harry clamped his mouth shut, leaning into his friends grip. His knees shaking. It wasn’t just an unsettled stomach, but a darkness stealing over him. A sudden blanket smothering the gloom.

The figure fell on the front steps, hands pawing at the front door. A click rang out like a gunshot and both men flinched backwards in a cold sweat. The graffiti ridden door swung open and a small swarm of men and women tumbled out upon each other, a wave of writhing bodies in all stages of undress. A few screamed as they crawled across broken glass and weeds, most ran with thin arms bundled around themselves.

‘Never a slow night!’ Ron bit out, his mouth dry. He could feel Harry shaking beneath his fingers. They roughly counted twenty bodies fleeing the scene. To any muggle this would look like a drug deal gone wrong. But there were more pinpricks of white within the open doorway as slender fingers curled around the door frame.

‘Harry!’ Ron shouted in his friends ear, his fingers now a vice. ‘We’re leaving!’

The skeletal fingers became a clawed fist as it pulled the length of its body into the night air. The white face was taut, the skin pulled so tight it tore along the jawline. It almost glowed in the gloom, with sunken black orbs carved into the marble. Harry felt the air shudder as the monsters jaws unhinged, the bellow that followed rumbled through the street like thunder. Harry clamped his sweaty palms to his ears and begged for the wails to end, but it only grew as the tiny mouth became a tunnel filled with crowded blades. The monster was preparing to hunt.

It shambled from the house hunched over, lopping as a bear would, its bulbous hands curled and its bare feet slapping as it tore from the front garden on all fours.

Harry dry-heaved into his mouth and stumbled away from Ron on wooden legs. He shuffled towards the achingly quiet house and towards the lone figure climbing to their feet; the one who had opened the door. He drew his wand and the illusion shimmered over his skin.

Glass crunched beneath his boots and the figure before him crouched defensively, back to the open doorway, head working quickly beneath a hood. Harry drunk in the strangers fear. He raised his wand in an unsteady hand and mentally thanked Ron for hiding them both.

‘Lumos!’ he screamed, his own fear scratching at his throat as the words came out guttural. The illusion exploded outwards, urged onwards with the intensity of the spell. Pure beams of light fell upon the figure, blasting the few feet as though lightning had fallen. The figure dropped immediately, gloved hands clawing at their face. Harry threw an arm to his face, knocking his glasses askew as he shielded his eyes from the encroaching darkness that slunk back into the front garden.

‘Blimey, Harry,’ Ron whispered beside him, his eyes bloodshot. ‘We need to go! Now!

‘Ron?’ Harry whispered back, lowering his arm, his eyes fearful. ‘We’re going to need the safe house’.

But Ron was already moving. Harry blinked and the figure was motionless and bound, heaved over Ron’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

‘Already on it. Now let’s go so that you can actually retire!’

It was moments like these that Harry mentally took a step back and really appreciated how brave Ron had become, how confident, how good he was at being a dependable Auror. Harry had lost that shine years ago, and had pushed a reluctant Ron directly onto the stage whilst he took a well needed step backwards. There was no bitterness, or resentment, just pure love and respect.

Harry took his best friends hand, interlocked their fingers and looked past him. A sharp whistle split the air and Harry’s ears popped as his body began to pull away from himself. Within that bubble of Apparition the world around him was alive with swirls of distorted noise. Ron’s shoulder bumped his and the body on his shoulder slipped. A thud shuddered through Harry’s spine and copper splattered his crooked glasses.  
His lips opened around a shout, but his lungs had gone. His entire being was stretched and pulled. Harry closed his eyes to the Apparition and prayed that Ron would be alive when they opened.


	2. Chapter 2

_'A Dhampir feels pain like a human but heals extraordinarily quickly. A Vampire however is the toughest of them yet; hardened for punishment and often egotistic in its nature. Fear those that have no fear.’_

_Pg 10._

 

‘I’m dying!’ Ron screamed, collapsing onto the carpet, his hands fisted into his jumper. His hands came away bloody, the red already drying in the cracks of his palms. ‘Wait, this isn’t my-Harry?’

Harry snapped his head upwards, breathing hard against the nausea threatening to paint his shoes. He stared hard at Ron who sheepishly got to his feet, still giving himself the occasional pat.

‘You’re not bleeding?’ Harry asked, feeling dumb and tired all at once.

Ron patted himself down again, and then a third time for good luck. ‘No, I don’t think so’ he replied, and the pair shared an uneasy look, their eyes wandering to the immobilised heap of fabric at Harry’s feet. Ron shot Harry a look and the man shook his head. Ron raised his eyebrows and nodded his head quickly, Harry flagged and rolled his eyes in defeat.

‘Fine,’ Harry ground out as he prodded the swaddled mass with the toe of his boot. The thing didn’t move and Ron cast Harry a silent plea. With a defeated sigh, Harry nudged the mass until it rolled onto its back. The hood slipped backwards and angry eyes bore upwards and into Harry.

‘Fuck!’ Harry screamed, booting the sudden man beneath him. He drove his boot into the man’s ribs and leapt away when he hissed back. ‘Fuck, he scared me!’ Harry shouted, turning on Ron who was bent double trying not to laugh. ‘I honestly hate everything about this night’.

Ron burst into laughter at Harry’s astonished face and clamped his legs together. His sudden laughter was manic, like a switch flicked on. Harry smirked back, the bubbling fear turning to relief. The laughter was contagious and Harry couldn’t help but join in.

‘We’re actually alive!’ Ron coughed, his sides aching. He wiped at his teary eyes. ‘We’re not dead’.

The man groaned and Harry bit his lip hard to stop himself from laughing again. The last dregs of adrenaline had left him drained, the relief had been the final buffer of an emotional high.

Ron breathed deeply, calming his frayed nerves and riding the adrenaline crash. ‘If I didn’t laugh just then, I really think I would have vomited’.

‘Still debating on that,’ Harry shot back, straightening his glasses and plastering a wobbly smile on his face. ‘Honestly thought you were going to prove me wrong on this one, mate. But no, I had to be right’.

‘You’re like a fucking magnet for disaster, Harry’. Ron collapsed boneless onto the leather sofa behind him, sighing contently as he got comfy. ‘I’m definitely going to have a nightmare tonight,’ he yawned into a hand.

‘What about him?’ Harry asked, motioning towards the figure now sitting up. The pair watched the man in silence for a few moments. Grey eyes flashed back at them, daring Harry to kick him again. The man glared harder as the hood slipped backwards entirely and a mess of unwashed brunette hair appeared. Harry stared harder at the man, he felt familiar but all too alien. The man’s jaw was prominent and peppered with darkening bruises, his forehead cut and his right eyeball crimson and bloody.

Harry felt like he should know the captive before him. It was on the tip of his tongue, but the image before him wasn’t correct.   

‘Do I know you?’ Harry asked stepping forwards. The man flinched backwards, his bound ankles wriggling. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean to kick you. Stop moving’.

The man struggled quicker, tearing his wrists against the rope.

‘Woah!’ groaned Ron, clambering to his feet.

Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the man. The man stopped moving and looked up owlishly.

‘Do it, Potter!’ the man croaked through chapped lips. ‘You’ve wanted this long enough’.

‘It’s- Malfoy,’ Harry exhaled, watching closely as the grey eyes narrowed and the lips thinned. ‘You’ve dyed your hair, but it’s you. You were at the house-you saved those people-‘

‘Shut up!’ Draco hissed, leaning forwards and all but growling. ‘You’re wrong. It got them. It probably has them all by now.’ He looked to his bound ankles and sighed shakily. ‘It’s always you, Potter. After all these years. It’s you who has to find me’. Draco pulled his knees to his chest and dropped his head to his knees as though he was the only person in the room.  
Harry and Ron turned away as Draco’s shoulders began to shake.

‘Ron, I’ll uh take first watch’, Harry whispered, and Ron nodded gratefully. ‘Five hour rotation’.

‘Don’t stake the witness’, Ron teased back before trudging from the lounge. A silvery mist swirled around his ankles and skittered off.

Harry turned back to a still Draco, feeling unmoored. Questions galore tumbled around his tired brain, but he quietened his thoughts when grey eyes peeked under an arm at him.

‘Malfoy, are you injured?’

‘Beside a boot in my rib, no’.

Harry shuffled awkwardly, feeling young and stupid in the gaze. He felt like he was missing something important here.  
Draco popped his head out from his folded arms and Harry pointedly ignored the blood filled eye.

‘Are you a vampire?’

Draco huffed, a smirk tugging at his lips. ‘What a rude question to ask, Potter’ Draco quipped back, ‘are you _still_ an idiot?’

‘You’re the one tied up on the floor!’ Harry bristled.

‘Touché,’ Draco sighed closing his right eye. ‘I suppose this is what I get for trying to do something good’.

‘Good!’ Harry scoffed, a twang of irritation slowly stirring. ‘I don’t know what the hell kind of mess you’ve got yourself into, but I doubt you’re playing anything other than the slimy git’.

Draco sucked his teeth loudly, cocking his head to the side and squinting his good eye. ‘The world isn’t black and white anymore, Potter’. And with that, Draco slumped sideways onto the carpet and closed his good eye. He clenched his fists once and inwardly winced. He’d lied about being injured. Infact it was his blood now smeared against the lenses of Harry’s glasses, from his closed right eye no less.

‘You’re just going to go to sleep?’ Harry asked, bewildered at this whole turn of events. ‘After everything, you’re just going to sleep?’

Draco resisted the urge to fire a retort and instead exhaled noisily from his nostrils. ‘Yes, Potter. It has been a long night. Interrogate me in the morning’.

 

* * *

 

 

_‘Even the slightest drop of blood before an unschooled vampire is suicide. The monsters despise silver; however our blood runs liquid gold.’_

_Pg. 2._

A sudden roar of shattering glass had Harry lurching from the warm safe-house bed. He tore his left hand from his boxers with a grunt as the leather bound book fell from his right. It bounced against the spine and disappeared into a pile of robes against the wardrobe. He sighed as he watched the pages curl.

The book had been loaned from Sebastian, a librarian within the Ministry of Magic; it was an interesting read, an anecdotal guide almost upon vampires and their other-worldly kin.

‘Ron?’ Harry mumbled, shoving his glasses up his nose and stumbling from the room. ‘What’s going on?’

Draco narrowed his eye dangerously as Harry entered the lounge, his tongue working his chapped lips. He crouched forwards on his now unbound feet, his arms tied behind his back, hissing low in his throat at Ron. If the man had heckles they would surely be raised.

‘Untie me now!’ Draco shouted, the tendons in his neck straining against the bruised flesh. ‘I’m a free man. I have no warrants. So fucking. Let. Me. Go’. Strands of brunette fell into his eyes as he pushed forwards, his left eye open and furious. Ron gulped and Harry’s fingers twitched for his wand. He’d never truly seen the man this angry before, so full of unbridled rage.

‘Well, what actually happened?’ Harry continued, nodding towards the small glass between the pair.

‘Well-‘ Ron shuffled his feet, ‘I opened the curtains, kinda curious to see if he’d burst into flames. And he didn’t. He just rolled over and called me a prick and scared the life out of me’.

Harry dragged a hand down his face, groaning for all of its worth. Last night was chaotic, what with actually discovering a blood bank, but to pick up Draco Malfoy was a whole different kettle of fish.

‘Stop trying to goad me, you absolute idiot!’ Draco snapped back, kicking a shard of glass across the carpet. Apparently Ron had been bringing the man a glass of water before his heart was suddenly restarted. ‘I am not a vampire!’

‘He’s a dhampir,’ Harry sighed, flicking the mess of glass away with his wand.

‘Vampire?’ Ron replied with a frown, looking between the men.

‘With a d and h. So dhampir. They’re like half human and half vampire’. Harry turned to Draco with a satisfied smile, pleased at having connected the dots from his light reading. Draco rolled his eye and fixated his gaze on the far wall, thoroughly unimpressed.

‘Harry, mate. You’ve got to be kidding me’.

‘Yes. Potter is correct,’ Draco groaned, moving away from the Aurors. ‘So how did _you_ work it out?’

‘Actually, you just told me,’ Harry ducked backwards with his hands thrown up as Draco turned with a shout. ‘You said you weren’t a vampire! So I was doing some reading and thought it was worth the shot…’

Draco smiled thinly before laughing suddenly. It bounced around the room, loud and booming. The brunette fringe fell into his eyes as he straightened with a final chuckle.

‘Sneaky, Potter’ Draco stated with a wry smile, his right eye slowly opening to reveal stark white around the iris. He blinked a few times until the image was clear. ‘There we go all healed’. Ron gasped in awe and the ropes slid away from Draco’s wrists. ‘Thank you, Weasley. Now, I’m certain there’s no warrants out for my arrest, am I correct?’

‘Uh-none?’ Ron replied, his eyes wide and searching. ‘How did you?’

‘Not important,’ Draco turned to Harry, his slender fingers now unpacking a small bundle of cloth. ‘You didn’t honestly think I’d go to a blood bank without an escape route, did you?’ he drawled, as Harry watched the pale digits unfold the cloth.   
It was almost as though the world had slowed down, as if actions were being taken between heartbeats. The two Aurors watched transfixed as the cloth unfurled within Draco’s extended palm. With the fabric sat a twenty sided die. Draco’s free hand rose sluggishly and fell upon the crook of the extended arm; the arm shot up, the die flew towards him like a fired bullet.

Draco snatched the die from the air and vanished.

 


End file.
